


forrest green, forrest blues

by ofjisoos (swelter)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Homophobia, M/M, flangst, happy belated bday nessa!, this is a cliche mess but w.e
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 00:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10651356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swelter/pseuds/ofjisoos
Summary: junhui’s first memory of seungcheol was something like poetry in motion.





	forrest green, forrest blues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [galaxytaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxytaos/gifts).



> this honestly had a very angsty route ahead of it, but i decided there should be more juncheol ~fluff~ in the tag, so i cut the angst short and gave it a (very cliche) happy twist instead. 
> 
> happy super belated birthday, nessa! thank you for being my fellow juncheol shipper and jun stan friend :”) 
> 
> here’s my attempt to water the juncheol tag, and let’s hope i'll have more motivation to do more in future. title from frank ocean’s forrest gump (which also inspired the character tropes used in the fic), and day6′s my day was on heavy rotation whilst i was writing the second-ish half. kind of written in a rush, and definitely unbeta'd soooooo this is probably not My Best but i might do edits later-- yeah.

**i. you run my mind, boy**

 

junhui’s first memory of seungcheol was something like poetry in motion.

“go out and look around the neighbourhood,” his mother had said, the crinkles around her eyes suggesting fond permission. she’d run calloused fingers through the long strands of his hair, patting his cheek before opening the door and ushering him into the big, big world outside – vast and unfamiliar and all overwhelmingly _new_ to 14-year-old junhui.

he hadn’t quite known exactly where to go, considering that it’d only been a day since the movers came in and they’d just settled into the new house literally a few hours ago. still, his footsteps were resolute, his eyes wide as he surveyed the landscape around him. he breathed in the new air, a crisp smell tinted with fumes of pumpkin spice brewing from a neighbour’s house – it was autumn, the season in which he finds the crunch of the leaves beneath his foot satisfying, and the chill outside just enough for him to don his favourite sweater without it being inappropriate.

there was a park not too far away from the maze of houses he’d had to navigate his way through.

as junhui approached it, there were the periodical sounds of cleats hitting a ball, and the occasional shout of order amongst a group of boys, rapid and mostly incoherent to foreign ears. he’d stood by, trying to look inconspicuous with fingers dug into his pockets, playing with the tangle of his earphones. it’s rude to stare, he knew, but the game was amplifying in intensity and there was something speeding across his line of vision that was much less a boy than it was a fired cannonball, rendering him frozen with awe.

he moved with a kind of finesse junhui hadn’t seen outside of his own four walls, skilled movements keeping the ball in his relentless, autocratic possession. upon reaching one end of the field where the makeshift goal stands, the boy made a clean shot, and it was obvious he’d won. the rest of the group was divided — one half cheered and crowded around him in celebration, whilst the other looked dejected, but awed nonetheless.

“choi seungcheol, choi seungcheol!”

the boy broke out into a smile, teeth laden with braces and gums bared. he and his friends started to retreat to catch a break, or perhaps start packing to head home – junhui wasn’t completely sure, too busy with looking like he hadn’t simply come by to gawk.

the way back home was spent with music blaring in his ears, and the tangled wires of his earphones against the thumping in his chest, trying to commit _choi seungcheol_ into a better part of his memory for safekeeping.

 

 

 

 

**ii. nervous, forrest**

 

fast forward three years later, and junhui finds himself in the bleachers, just as rooted in fascination as he’d been before. he stretches out his legs, leaning back slightly as the cigarette between his fingers burned with a luminous flame, even in broad daylight. blowing the smoke from the depths of his lungs upwards, he ignores the wary glances being cast his way. eyes trained on seungcheol on the field, he flicks the butt of the cigarette and lets the ashes fall onto the concrete.

it’s probably a little sad how a part of him still hopes, though life has made it a point to him down a lot more than he’d like. then again, junhui supposes he’s always been a natural optimist, so he clings onto the same fairytale-like dream he’d had way back when he was younger and more naive and clueless to the cruel jeers of the world. his mind wanders to the polyester piece of fabric in his locker, a stagnant reminder of the irony of _junhui and seungcheol_.

someone coughs behind him, vaguely sounding like a slur that had been thrown out against him for the past few years.

“ _cheerleading is a respectable sport_ ,” his team captain kwon soonyoung likes to emphasise, and junhui agrees, completely. but the weaker part of him stubbornly holds onto his cigarette, onto the little semblance of masculinity expected of him despite his sport of choice. whenever soonyoung frowns at him for it, he reasons that it’s the only way to get seungcheol’s slack-mouthed friends to leer at him a little less on school grounds (and off), and soonyoung relents with a _fine_ , patting him on the back in reply.

“hey.”

junhui stops scuffing at the ashes on the floor, looking up to see sunlight – thankfully shielded by a very sweaty seungcheol, a small smile resting upon his flushed face. junhui cracks a grin, dropping the cigarette and stepping on it to distinguish the flame. the hand seungcheol holds out is clammy but it’s a home away from home, as trite as it sounds, and junhui’s brought onto his feet with its help.

“you were great out there,” junhui cups the back of seungcheol’s hand with his palm. “you’re gonna kill it at the next match.”

“i hope so,” seungcheol laughs. long gone were the braces from his early teenage years, but on display is the very same gummy smile junhui remembers from day one. “listen, i gotta go take a shower and change and all that.” he squeezes junhui’s hands, “meet you outside in, like… 20 minutes?”

“okay,” junhui nods. he lets go of seungcheol’s hand, only for seungcheol to grasp it tighter, something unidentifiable clouding his eyes. “wha–”  

it’s a scene out of junhui’s childlike imaginations he sometimes allows himself to indulge in – seungcheol’s lips pressed firmly against his, his hands slipping to cling onto junhui’s waist in earnest. junhui misses the murmurs of dissent around them, drowned out by the sound of his heart beating in his ears. he kisses back, hand coming to rest on seungcheol’s rough jaw. it’s kind of gross, the way seungcheol’s skin is slick with sweat against his palm and the feeling of seungcheol’s drenched hair against his fingers, but the thrill sends junhui’s head spinning all too much for him to register anything else but _seungcheol seungcheol seungcheol_.

they break apart, and seungcheol’s grinning. it’s all too boyish and cheeky, and junhui feels like a kid all over again. “sorry,” seungcheol gives another quick peck on junhui’s cheek and runs off, yelling, “see you later, beautiful!”

 

 

 

 

**iii. remembering you**

 

“that was a first.” junhui broaches the subject over a serving of greasy fries across their shared tray, and two glasses of milkshake. he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it even though it’d been a few hours since. he holds a fry suspended over his milkshake, debating on whether or not to dip it into the vanilla-ice mixture. seungcheol looks at it disapprovingly, shaking his head as if to say, “you’re a menace,” as he chews on his own mouthful of fries.

“you’ve- we’ve never –” junhui clears his throat, a warm tinge to his cheeks and an involuntary nervous chuckle escaping him. he lowers down the fry between his finger, dunking the tip into his drink without much thought, “– done that in public before.”

“you can say we kissed, it’s alright,” seungcheol waves his hand dismissively, swallowing. he takes a sip of his own milkshake, finishing the last dredges in the tall glass. he’s got a casual indifference to his tone, with the slightest bit of teasing towards junhui’s obvious hesitance. “i couldn’t resist,” he justifies, shrugging, “you just looked good.”

“i look good every day, cheol,” junhui lifts an eyebrow, laughing. it slips out like a force of habit, the overconfidence making up for the reality of his self-consciousness.  

“that, i can’t really argue with,” seungcheol agrees, though he fashions a grimace at the statement. junhui’s almost sure it’s because of the less-than-deceiving surface acting he’s maintaining. seungcheol’s got an uncanny ability to see through it, and it unnerves him a lot more than he’d like to admit.

“no, but seriously,” junhui’s laughter dies off, his voice trailing into something softer, something more vulnerable. “your friends were around. and…” he draws circles onto the tabletop, avoiding seungcheol’s eyes. “…they’re not.” he racks his brain for a way to properly phrase it without ruining the mood too much, but fails. “you know.”

“junnie,” seungcheol’s voice’s lost its carefree timbre, sounding graver despite the affectionate nickname. it sends a chill down junhui’s spine. “i don’t care. they’ve known i’m bi for a while now, and they’ve never made a big deal out of it, it’s just–” he pauses, seeming to be at a slight loss of words, too. “it’s just that they’re not used to the whole football player-cheerleader combo to be a non-hetero one, i guess. i don’t know.”

“hmm.” junhui stares at the soggy fry being bogged down into his drink.

“hey. we’re every gay teen drama cliche crammed in one relationship,” seungcheol reaches out to take junhui’s hand, and junhui looks up to see his gaze softening, “and that’s okay with me, if it is with you. fuck everyone else.”

junhui only responds with a low scoff and a slight roll of the eye, but lets seungcheol lean in for another very public, _very_ nice kiss across the table.     

they walk home together after, upon seungcheol’s insistence, with fingers interlocked by their side. junhui hums along to the tune of a commercial jingle, which makes seungcheol tackle him into a playful headlock. they’re still boys, very much like the ones from their yesteryears, and nothing much has changed.

junhui’s still the headmaster’s son (with somewhat of an edge, though those who know him best would know that the smoking habits and almost aloof appearance are merely an illusion to those around him), the star player of the cheerleading team, and seungcheol’s still the golden boy, the captain of the football team, with the rest of the school population either wanting to be him or be with him. the only difference is that they’ve learned to trade out complicated, suppressed feelings along with the standard teenage angst for an honest relationship worn on their sleeves for the world to see –

and honestly? junhui’s content with it, choosing to curl deeper into seungcheol’s presence and warmth, even if it meant that there would be more hurdles to overcome in their way.

fuck everyone else, really.


End file.
